The Games We Play
by Enabeans
Summary: Written for the prompt: Cain x Caterina with Abel as a voyeur. Written for Mako. Please be warned this story will contain sexual content in later chapters, and some may be non-consensual. Pretty tame for now though. COMPLETE.
1. The Games Begin

**Prompt: **_Cain x Caterina with Abel as a voyeur. _

_This story was written for my lovely husbando, Mako. WARNING: This story will contain explicit sexual content in later chapters._

**Chapter One - Let the Games Begin**

_Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.  
-George Eliot_

If anyone had been asked to describe Cain Knightlord back on the Ark, the same words would have come up time and again. A pacifist, gentle, everyone's friend, the peak of genetic achievement.

He had been the yang to Abel's yin, he had been the opposite tug to a violent soul, the one who maintained violence was wrong and they were all human really.

_What future do you want, Abel?_

A question that had been asked time and time again, with his hand pressed to smooth glass while his brother sat in solitary confinement for solving yet another problem with his fists.

The golden haired benevolent leader of the Mars colony, capable of nothing but love for those around him. However, the thing about love... it's dangerous, perhaps far more dangerous than any other emotion, and it gives rise the most easily to other more ugly side-emotions. Jealousy, envy, obsession, possessiveness, and then hatred.

Cain loved Abel. Deeply and completely.

Perhaps it had begun as an innocent love, but it had warped beneath the surface on so many levels, sprouting other less pleasant thoughts to hide under the veneer of the angelic pacifist.

Jealousy... of Lilith and Abel, the reason switching and changing depending on mood or situation. He was furiously jealous of Lilith for stealing Abel's affection and time, for daring to command his heart and soul when they were supposed to be two halves of a whole. He was jealous of Abel for having Lilith, when his twin was inferior genetics - just spare parts - and Lilith should be with him as the superior specimen.

Envy... of Abel's ability to express his true emotions on the surface so easily. His strength of conviction to stand up for those who had held them as tools and hurt them so easily as if they were less than human.

Hatred... of the humans. This was one so long fostered, for all the same reasons as his brother. He hated being used as less than human, hated being a pincushion for experiments, hated what they did to his family... a deep and frightening hatred that he kept buried.

Until the day he died.

Then into that black oblivion had come whispered voices asking him to submit, promising him the power to make everything right finally, vowing to take away the pain and servitude from his family finally. Perhaps he didn't truly understand what they were, or what would happen, but he had willingly submitted to their thrall... and when he opened his eyes again, Cain Knightlord was something more than he had been.

Evolved.

From clone to Crusnik, his vision finally clear.

_What future do you want, Abel?_

Perhaps he hadn't known himself back then, perhaps Abel had never known either. But now he knew. The future could be only one thing, the pain of the world cried out to him and there was only one way to deal with such a festering illness as the humans. Only one way to heal the world they had infected with their wars and suffering, their greed and selfishness.

Rebirth through cleansing fire.

It had only seemed right Abel take 02, even in this form and with his mind more than half possessed by the insanity of Crusnik, the obsession with his brother didn't fade. It simply warped to become something much, much darker. His brother, his real brother, understood the need to destroy this world to let another rise from the bloody ashes...

It had been savage perfection for decades as they waged a war upon those helpless creatures, ants before gods that would inevitably destroy them Contra Mundi and proud of it. Until she had spoiled it all, until she had come to stand between them _again_ and tried to take his Abel from him. There was only one thing he could do to keep his brother with him, to keep them the perfect gods raining justice on a broken world.

_I've removed the negative element._

Yet somehow it had been a miscalculation, heady and thrumming with the dizzying sensation of combining two sets of nanomachines in one body, he had been helpless against the unexpected rage that had overtaken Abel and driven him to be pushed from an airlock.

His marvellous brother, a god of destruction and death, had become a broken thing mourning in the tomb of a dead woman. It had taken years to regenerate from ash, and even then his body remained unstable. He had been forced to ally himself with a small organization and help it grow to something terrifying under his motto.

Let his broken brother rot for all he cared, this world would be his with none to stand in his way. Little Seth didn't count, ensconsed in the Empire she had created for herself, she wouldn't rise to the defense of the humans. It would be his, the world purged centuries after it should have been. But then one had come to draw Abel from his tomb, a new 'hope' for Abel to focus on, a new woman to fix his heart and promises on. Perhaps not in the same way, but it had been enough... and now his brethren was being forced to do the bidding of its host, bound to slavery serving that which they should destroy.

He had ignored it for a long time; after all, she was no threat to him. A mere terran woman, and a dying one at that, pathetic and infinitely breakable. But it had begun to irk him, so perhaps it was time to remedy the situation. She had nothing to offer him, no nanomachines to take and no life-sustaining bacillus, but at least she could prove amusing for a time.

It was time to show Abel once more there was no room for negative elements in his life, a life that should belong to him once more.

"Isaak." Relaxing back in the bath of sweet-smelling liquid used to sustain his body against the deterioration that plagued him, he called to the air for his butler knowing he would hear.

The butler appeared almost at once, shadows bringing him to his master's side to bow deeply on one knee, raven hair spilling around his knees like a smooth curtain. "Mein Herr."

"Don't you think a tea party would be such a wonderful idea~!" His smile was bright and deceptively goofy as he pushed damp hair back from his forehead. "It's been so long since I had a nice tea party... back when I was child, my sister had a china doll that we used to play with for pretend tea parties. A smooth porcelain thing with big eyes and blonde curls, it would be a shame to hold one without her."

He heaved a melodramatic sigh, pout coming over his lips as he blinked innocent blue eyes at his butler. "I know it won't be quite the same, but I'm sure you can find a _suitable _candidate to fill her place."

Isaak smiled, long and slow, he was well used to his Herr's flights of fancy and distinctly odd ways of making his requests known. But this could only mean one thing, and it would surely be his utmost pleasure to fulfill it. "Of course, Mein Herr. Will there be anything else?"

Cain tapped his chin as though thinking, long finger glistening with droplets of that odd liquid as he moved it in the dim light. "When we had those tea parties as children, Abel used to be so uncouth. He broke the doll at the last one... I'm sure he'd be more careful with the toys if we gave him a second chance, hm?"

Another bow, deep and smug, before Isaak rose to his feet and let the shadows surround him again. Vanishing to extend the invitations.

Let the games begin.


	2. Princess with a Broken Crown

**Chapter Two - Princess with a Broken Crown**

Caterina Sforza was many things - a Duchess with her own estate, a respected Cardinal with a slightly unconventional division, a doting big sister, the Iron Lady with a spine of steel. But underneath all these things was a person hardly anyone knew about, or would even have guessed existed, the princess who still relied on her brave Sir Abel to save the day.

Ever since that day when he had risen from the tomb of the Holy Madonna to save her, to turn into an avenging angel and destroy her attackers, she had been hopelessly in love with him.

He was her hero.

For such a short time it was the love of a child worshipping an idol, a perfect endless summer of playing in a field filled with flowers, childish dreams of knights on perfect white steeds and princesses being rescued from demons of darkness. But all too soon her demons had become more real, and the promise they made together to save the world needed a more concrete solution than dreams and passionate words.

So she had founded the AX, the perfect way for her to administrate her hand on this sword she wielded with Abel, and he could stay with her to keep being her protector and confidant.

Unfortunately, the world seemed to have other plans, and as each year went by Caterina felt that princess slip further from her and become a barely remembered dream. She wasn't that girl any more, she was a woman now and she had changed.

Evolved.

From child to Cardinal.

Her decisions had gone from black and white, to all shades of gray. In the name of good she had done evil, and the child's idolizing love had grown and mutated into a darker jealous possessive adoration. She still loved him, but now she wanted to love him as a woman, and yet believed herself unworthy of his attentions. After all, he was her knight... her avenging angel... and she was a flawed woman who's body was deteriorating already. She could offer him nothing but her darkness, and as evil as she was, she couldn't do that.

Yet she couldn't bear to let him go either, destroying all other chances he had for happiness with a jealous vengeance that was sickening. He was her one weakness, the one place where her frightening intelligence and logic disappeared and her heart ruled her head.

She hid it well, deep behind a veneer of calm collected cool, but it was this almost obsessive love that kept her working long past when she should have given in. It was all she could offer him, for as long as she could, her efforts at fulfilling their joint promise to this world.

The light in her office was one of the last left on in this wing of the Vatican headquarters, but she was determined to complete this stack of correspondence before she turned in for the night. A small card was next on her desk, a cream and crisp thick card with words written in a flowing pen.

"_And the LORD said unto Cain, __**Where is Abel **__thy brother? And he said, __**I know not: **__Am I my brother's keeper? / And he said, What hast thou done? the __**voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me **__from the ground."_

_-Isaak Fernand von Kampfer_

Of course she immediately saw the coded message in the bold lines of the bible quote, it was far too obvious to miss them, and her blood seemed to run cold. _Where is Abel... I know not... voice of thy brother's blood crieth..._ was he injured? Did the Orden have him? She immediately rose from her seat and left the office, the card discarded carelessly in her worry, hurrying along the empty corridors of the late-night Vatican until she reached his room.

Knock... knock... No answer...

With anyone else logic would have kicked in long ago, and she would be ordering Tres and Sister Kate to be searching, she certainly would not have stepped inside the room where anyone could have been waiting as a trap. She was not that foolish.

But this was Abel, where her heart ruled her head, and before she could berate herself for idiotic actions she was inside the room and staring at the occupant in mute fury. The barest wisp of cigarillo smoke rose as Isaak bowed to her courteously, arms of shadow closing the door behind her and his smile utterly self-satisfied at once more playing the superior move.

"Duchess, I fear our time is short and you have a pressing engagement to attend."


	3. The Blind leading the Blind

**Chapter Three - The Blind leading the Blind**

As Abel Nightroad slid the thin wire-rimmed glasses onto his nose he was one more reminded, as he was every time, how ironic this was. He had always had perfect vision from those startling winter-blue eyes, sharper and more perceptive than most human eyes, he had still been infinitely blind.

Blind to his brother's needs, just bulldozing over his gentler twin and putting them both through a greater hell that could have been avoided had he listened and offered words of friendship instead of anger. Blind to his pain and his suffering, right to the day he died. Blind to the puppet that had taken over Cain, reluctant to see 01 for the monster it was for decades because it served his purpose of destroying the humans.

Blind to Lilith. Blind to her love and her patience, blind to her endless wisdom and the belief she had in him that never wavered. Blind to her sacrifices and her strength, blind to her pain and worst of all... blind to her impending death.

Perhaps that was why he wore these glasses now, aside from being a memorial to his beloved twin long dead, to remind himself never to give into that blindness again. It was a masochistic accessory, though it seemed simple, he could never look at those thin frames without remembering his greatest failures.

They didn't deserve to be forgotten. _He_ didn't deserve to forget. The sins of his past were too great to count, the blood on his hands could never be washed off, and however he strove to make amends now it was all a mere drop in the ocean. He would never gain redemption for this, he didn't deserve to gain redemption. Just one thought of those warm golden eyes glazed in death seared that fact into his soul.

He should have stood up in front of the world, wearing the face of the monster, and let them destroy him over and over again. Let them rend him limb from limb and then do it all again when he regenerated. He should... But he didn't. He was a selfish and cowardly creature at heart, so instead of standing up to his sins and facing the consequences, he had buried himself with his lost heart and left Seth with the ashes of the world.

He thought nobody would have forgotten, but when he emerged from the tomb to save a golden-haired child, there was no fear in her face. No cry of Night Lord or Monster. She had looked at him as an angel, the first terran to ever see him as anything worthwhile... and instead of correct her, he had taken the easy way out and vowed to help protect the world he had once destroyed.

These glasses obscuring his eyes, not just a memorial but a disguise, one carefully constructed and maintained for this long decade. All the aspects of his brother he had once disparaged; his easy-going nature, his manners, his disarming clumsiness, his innate gentleness... he had taken them all and tried to emulate them into something he could use to hide the sinner he was.

A monster in a priest's cassock, with a bright smile. It truly was the blind leading the blind, if he were in charge of another's immortal soul.

But he was grateful for the life he had, utterly thankful for the chance to show Lilith he had listened to her... too late, far too late. He could never thank Caterina enough for all she had given him, his precious little girl. She had been the first he had protected, and she meant the absolute world to him, he would follow her to Hell and back if she commanded to protect this world.

She didn't deserve to feel the weight of his sins, didn't deserve to see the creature that lurked beneath the blithe smile. Better she should be able to believe in a knight that couldn't really protect anything, better that she should roll her eyes at his idiocy than recoil in horror at his sins. So it was that this overdramatic priest had become who he was now, and after a decade it was a disguise comfortably worn.

He knew he should have been in the Vatican hours earlier when curfew doors were closed, but... he had received a special invitation to a special CHOCOLATE EATING CONTEST which had been impossible to resist. He had been born to participate, he was a natural... he could go all the way to the chocolate eating olympics. Which, now he was thinking about it, would be a marvellous idea - they could have the Triple Truffle Jump and the 100m strawberry-bootlace dash. It had begun as a wonderful evening, he had been inhaling the delicious slabs of life-giving sugar goodness, when the contestant next to him had got a little irate just because Abel had... accidentally... eaten their chocolates as well.

They complained to the referee, and Abel was politely asked to leave. It had all got a bit hazy after security had caught him smuggling toffee creams out of the hall in his pockets and demanded money for them. Honestly, couldn't they see he was an impoverished priest who's demon boss paid him a pittance?

Grumbling to himself, sans chocolate and sans any remaining dinars he might have possessed, he trudged his way back to the Vatican where he had to try sweet talking the door guard into letting him inside even though it was long past curfew.

After half an hour of arguments and pleading, he finally managed to make it inside. Exhausted and stumbling to his room, muttering under his breath about WHINING CHOCOLATE MAKERS and how his LIFE IS FULL OF WOE and he might as well LAY DOWN AND DIE NOW... nobody would mourn him, they'd probably just throw a party over four lousy dinars saved...

Opening the door to his room, the grumbles caught in his throat and his breath hitched at the same time causing a small strangled sound to escape. Eyes widening behind his glasses, there was a flash of something much harder and much less stable than the usual genial priest. He'd know that smell of cigarillo smoke anywhere, and the card on his pillow seemed... blaring, almost like a beacon calling to him.

He didn't remember crossing to the bed, shaking hands picking up the card as he forced himself to focus on the words. Heart pounding wildly in his chest and mind whirling with images of von Kampfer here inside the Vatican. Why? What had...

_The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder._

_-Jane Austen_

Falling off the card, a single lock of blonde hair that almost shattered his soul all over again. They had her... _He_ had her.

All traces of the benevolent priest vanished in that heartbeat, as an almost bestial howl ripped from a mind coming unhinged, the window smashing in a flurry of black feathers as a monster took flight once more.


	4. Dark Magic of the Mind

**Dark Magic of the Mind**

Isaak Fernand von Kampfer was a chameleon, he went through his life assuming the skin of whatever suited his purposes best. He cared for little in the way most others did; there was little worth to be found in the lives of others, as mundane and banal as most were, except as a stepping stone towards his own goals.

However; the things these lives could produce sometimes… the fine aromatic scent of a cigarillo just lit, the tantalizing taste of a perfect vintage of wine; and, of course, the literature. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once said; _'The decline of literature indicates the decline of a nation'_, and he had always been inclined to agree with him. There was worth to be found in every type of literature; from the factual accounts of an old coal mine, to the writings of Euripides.

A well written book could be as luxurious as feeling silk, or tasting an exceptionally well-aged wine. Just as with wine, one could become a connoisseur of literature. Tasting flavours and subtle textures that the lay person would never hint at… and Isaak was most certainly a connoisseur of the written word. He had supped from the cup of the greats, and he had swilled the dregs of those better left unmentioned; but the fact remained unchanged. Literature was the pearls of wisdom that came from the minds of swine, the genius behind the commonly fronted ignorance…

There was imperfection everywhere, and as a scientist and scholar it was his duty to sluice past that imperfection to find what was perfect. The challenge, the heady thrill of discovering all the secrets a mystery could yield… _that _was what he lived for.

His early days in Londinium University, creating wilder and more elaborate theories, conducting research beyond the scope of what others had deemed possible. Ah, those had been glorious days. But unlike that sentimental fool William, when the young lady 'unfortunately' lost her life and they were expelled, he did not choose to hide his genius in shame.

Instead he searched deeper and darker theories, things that transcended science into the heady world of the occult. Magic and superstition, all painstakingly dissected until the pieces lay bare for his taking. The shadows were his prize, the ineffable proof of his genius. But yet there must be more… there must be something to light his passion for knowledge as no other challenge had done… It was only when disillusionment set in that he found _Him._

A true God among ants, a perfect being. A Crusnik.

Shucking the skin of the scholar, the chameleon changed to become something more suited to his new subject's needs. A butler, a consummate provider of everything he could want and more. Well-educated and utterly subservient, he was rewarded his efforts with a proximity allowed to no other. A chance to study the greatest achievement of scientific history.

Delving had obviously yielded more results, slowly and patiently the butler with the calm smile gathered knowledge behind unreadable black eyes and continued to serve. There were more Gods, more subjects… the others not under the thrall as his Master, and yet both perfect in their own way. Especially Herr Abel, the act of the bumbling priest unable to truly conceal what lay beneath.

Contra Mundi in its truest form. No matter how he tried to protect, he failed… he destroyed everything he touched and when he willed it, the world was ravaged.

His fingers itched to unlock the mysteries in that host, to dissect the deceptively mortal shell and lay bare the secrets that lay beneath. To stand above the blood-stained broken God and know he had absorbed all he could. That would be Heaven. Never had he been so tempted to go behind his Herr's back, to take that priest and make him a project worthy of lifetimes, but that would surely result in instant death. His Herr did not like his toys played with, and his curiousity would be useless if death was all it gained him.

So he had waited patiently, finding other things to occupy his insatiable appetite for knowledge. He trained the wilful but promising student, Dietrich, and he found a worthy opponent. So very rarely could he say that, there was none to match his genius, but this blonde-haired Cardinal with the cold eyes was formidable indeed. A prize worthy of his attentions.

Finally his patience had been rewarded, and it was time… his Herr had summoned them both, and Isaak could feel the thrill of the study pulsing in his veins with anticipatory delight. It had been easy, so laughably easy, to exploit the weaknesses of his subjects. To play them into his hands using the art of the written word and subtle Machiavellian psychology… it was like a game of chess, know your opponent and block them until the King was open for the attack.

The stakes were laid, the opening gambit had been played, and Isaak was ready.


	5. Revenge is a dish best served cold

_Thanks to anyone who has taken the time to leave a review, I appreciate all crit and views. =3 _

**Revenge is a dish best served cold**

The table was laid with a pristine white tablecloth, three places laid with china dishes and porcelain teacups, a silver tea service and a plate of various cakes and scones ready to be eaten. It was the perfect fascmile of a child's tea party with adult trappings, something unsettling about the attention to detail as though it were taken from the pages of a storybook. The air was filled with the lilting melody of a musical score that hadn't been heard in centuries, something vaguely classical to fit the theme.

The door leading into the dining room opened silently on well-oiled hinges and a tall raven-haired man stepped aside politely to allow the woman to enter first, a cigarillo dangling from softly smiling lips as he gestured for her to take a seat at the table with one white-gloved hand.

"Mein Herr will be with you presently, Duchess."

Caterina's heels tapped on the polished wooden floor as she crossed to the table, a perfectly calm air about her as though she was here by choice and not through captivity. Fury at herself for falling into such an obvious trap obscured any fear she might have felt at being held in the lion's den. Not that she would show either emotion, she could not change her situation currently but she trusted Gunslinger to be tracking her already. Until then she would remain the consummate Iron Lady, calm and composed, and perhaps she would even learn something valuable about the inner workings of this many-headed Hydra she had been battling for years.

Arranging her skirts, she sat on one of the chairs and arranged her napkin across her lap with precision. It was unlikely they would bring her here for the sake of poisoning her, so she had no fear of the refreshments offered. Though sharing tea with the mysterious head of the Rosenkreutz Orden was not the top of her priority list, they had made a mistake by bringing the fight into her personal arena of skills. A physical confrontation would have been more sensible if they had wanted to dominate her, but this mimicry of polite society where manners and political savvy would be the weapons of choice... here she was confident.

She turned cool grey eyes onto the man still stood at the door, raising an eyebrow fractionally in distaste, her voice as commanding as though she were in her own office speaking to an unruly subordinate.

"It is impolite to smoke in the presence of food, you will spoil the taste."

Isaak's smile merely increased slightly as he removed the cigarillo from his lips and bowed with a hand over his heart without any hint of mockery. She truly was a work of art, a skilled opponent who's poise and cool detached voice were badges of her courage. The way she brought attention to such insignificant details to show how little this situation was affecting her was a well calculated move that he could respect.

Unfortunately for Caterina, all her calm composure fled with the arrival of a brightly smiling man in a brilliant white suit. Abel's name was on her lips before she swallowed the sound, the man before her might be physically identical to Abel but he was unmistakably different. There was an air about him that was disconcerting, as though that bright smile offered something other than first appearances spoke of. But it was not that aura that made her stumble inside herself, it was who he must be... No resemblance could be that close without familial ties, and this man was obviously a twin to her subordinate. The knowledge was like a punch to the stomach, winding her and making her heart thump in her chest. She had thought them close, and yet now she found not only had he never mentioned family, but he had allowed her to wield a sword against his own brethren without even warning her who she faced.

It was a betrayal... and an unexpected one... yet somehow she managed to keep her face smooth as she regarded the man who almost bounced in and took a seat opposite her. This was the head of the Orden? This was the fearsome Contra Mundi?

Cain's smile at Caterina was guileless as he took his own seat, dismissing Isaak with a wave of his hand and leaning his elbows on the table to rest his chin in his hands nonchalantly. His winter blue eyes twinkled with delight and he looked disconcertingly like his twin - harmless and a little goofy.

"I must say, I prefer blonde to red~" Cain's voice broke the silence, his tone thoughtful as he looked her over. "His taste is improving."

Caterina's eyes narrowed slightly, she wasn't quite sure what he meant, but it was obvious that 'his' must be Abel... and that meant he was inferring they had some relationship other than what existed in actuality. She couldn't help the small pang of longing in her heart as she replied, even past the severity of the situation she couldn't deny the feelings she had for him. Thank God Abel was too blind too see the inappropriate love she had for him.

"You appear to be misinformed, Father Nightroad is merely one of my subordinates."

Cain's smile turned into a small laugh of sheer delight as he caught that look in her eyes before she protested. Even alive he had been far more perceptive than his brother, it had allowed him to hide his own feelings and manipulate those around him into believing what he chose. Picking up one of the delicate cakes on display, he popped it in his mouth and gave an appreciative hum before speaking again.

"There was another woman who looked at him that way once." His tone was light and conversational, almost wistful as though remembering someone fondly. "She also thought to take what wasn't hers and corrupt it."

Caterina couldn't help the spike of fear in her gut, an instinct that told her she was as helpless here as an ant before a particularly malicious boy with a magnifying glass. Even though she knew he was deliberately goading her, she couldn't help the flare of jealousy that rose with the thought of another woman. How foolish, just another mark of how evil she had become; that even though she knew she didn't deserve his love, she wouldn't let another have it either. Her spine straightened and her jaw rose slightly in a disdain she couldn't quite feel, but could feign admirably.

"Did you bring me here to discuss childish and ludicrous flights of fancy?"

"Oh no, Duchess." Cain sat back in his chair, elegantly crossing his legs as he watched her over the rim of his teacup. "I brought you here to claim what's mine once more, what you have taken from me so arrogantly."

His tone remained light as though discussing the weather, ever so polite and genteel as his smile spread wider to give him a truly angelic appearance.

"It's time to remove the negative element once more, and bring Abel home where he belongs."


	6. Of Wings and Strings

_Apologies for my slow updating, I'm just a lazybum who keeps procrastinating. Ho hum. Still nothing to be warned of in this chapter, although I promise I will fulfill the prompt eventually. Haha...ha... _

**Of Wings and Strings**

Abel flew harder and faster than he ever remembered doing in his life, his veins were thrumming with the nanomachines beating in time to his own rage. It was a heady and old concotion, long left behind in the ruins of the Armageddon, but an ancient anger was more than awakened at the thought of Caterina in _his_ hands. She was so important to him, his family unlike he had ever imagined any terran to be, and he owed her so much more than she would ever be able to grasp.

If she was hurt because of him... if she became yet another casualty in a war that should have ended long since...

No. _No._

He wouldn't allow that to happen, he wouldn't be Contra Mundi again. The traitorous voices were whispering in his head that he could never hope to rescue her like this, that he should give into their power and together they would take away all the pain. He ignored them, not because it was easy to do so, but because he had no choice. He didn't have time for their tempting, and he didn't have time for his own weakness.

The time for everything had slipped away like sand, and it was finally the end.

Perhaps it was some residual mark of how close they had been when they were younger, two halves of one whole, that instinctively helped guide Abel towards Germanicus and where he knew deep down he'd find Cain. He didn't think on that, allowing himself to dwell even a few minutes on the brother he had lost was almost enough to drive him howling mad, just focusing on his need to rip the beast from that body and set Cain free at last. He wouldn't fail again, he wouldn't watch the blood of another person he cared for be spilled by the monster behind innocent blue eyes, this time he would rend him limb from limb.

_...I have removed the negative element, Abel..._

_Lilith... _

_...so sorry. So... so sorry... _

_Lil... ith... I love you... _

_...I have removed the negative element, Abel..._

Eyes burning red, past and present blurring togther in a medley that was bordering on insanity, Abel pushed his body further to become little more than a dark-feathered streak through the sky.

* * *

Dietrich von Lohengrin was, in a word, bored.

Sitting outside the main base, he pulled his knees up to his chest and pouted at the sky. He was well aware of his own genius, of his cunning and amazing abilities; he shouldn't have to take orders from anyone. The world should be his playground, and any toy he wanted should be made to dance on his whims. Yet he had a master of his own, one that could cut through his strings as though they were insignificant motes of dust on his clothes, and who could crush him as though he were an ant.

He _hated _Cain Knightlord with a passion that was only rivalled by his desire to go on living.

So he sat and waited, idly watching the drips of rain fall from the guttering onto the cement below, cherub's face arranged in a childish petulance at being ordered to do this menial task. There wasn't even any fun in it, no challenge, it was hardly fair. Isaak was having the time of his life being a machiavellian bastard, why did he have to do a chore that a trained monkey could have done?

Ah.

There it was finally, that tell-tale speck of black speeding through the clouded sky towards him at an inhuman rate, the ex-Contra Mundi coming to pay a housecall. Sighing, he uncurled himself from his sitting position and twitched his fingers almost languidly to call forth the twenty specially prepared Auto Jaeger.

Perhaps any other time, Abel might have stopped to wonder why so few of the puppetted dead Methuselah had been set as guard, when the Orden knew perfectly well such a meagre number was less than useless, but this wasn't that other time and Abel had no time for such thoughts. Instead, nanomachines exultant with battle rage and a furious hunger, he simply annihilated them in one pulse of electricity. Letting their blood writhe towards him and be seeped up by his body, the bacillus singing through his veins to feed the insatiable monster within... and for once he didn't care, he was walking the edge of sanity and all his being was focused on one target like an arrow.

It was exactly thirty-seven seconds after consuming the blood of those twenty lambs to the sacrifice, that Abel realized he had made a big mistake. Something... was wrong. The nanomachines were muted to a mere angry buzz in his head, like hornets that had suddenly been trapped behind a glass cage. He felt fusion slipping from him...

80% down to 40%... 40% down to nothing...

Then he was just a man, blue eyes impossibly wide as he stared at a world that was blurring around him, chest tight with desperation. He stumbled a few steps forwards as though drunk, still driven by the need to get to Caterina and save her, before he simply crumpled bonelessly to the ground with a soft "ah".

Dietrich stepped out from his hiding space and yawned ostentatiously, peering down at the unconscious priest in the tattered cassock, before fixing Abel with strings and jerking him unceremoniously behind him into the base to deliver to Isaak. Honestly, that had been so laughably easy, he hadn't even had to _do_ anything. Perhaps now his part were done, he could leave the old men to their boring games of chess and find his own fun.

After all, his Esther must be missing him by now.


	7. I come to you in pieces

_A small note. While some authors believe Isaak is a Methuselah, I think he is a terran. The evidence for this lies in his ability to go out in the sunlight, and the fact that even though he bleeds around Abel, his blood is never consumed to feed Crusnik - which leads me to believe his blood is worthless, devoid of bacillus. It's just a theory and an opinion, but it's why he's portrayed as terran in this story, so please don't review to flame me for this theory. Thanks._

**I come to you in pieces**

The room was spinning... Abel knew this before he even opened his eyes, groggy and disorientated with the kind of temporary amnesia that usually only came from either a heavy night of drinking, or a heavy bump on the head. Nausea welled inside his stomach, and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. But all of that paled in comparison to the grinding, thumping, _agonizing_ pain in his head... He shifted an arm to drape it over his eyes, or at least that had been the plan, he was actually greeted by the feel of a reinforced silver shackle around his wrist and the short length of a chain.

Eyes snapping open, heedless of the immediate protesting pain from his brain, he took in his surroundings in shock. Chained hand and foot to the wall by silver chains far thicker than would be used to hold a Methuselah, head spinning as though he were drugged and no sight of anyone else.

"...hello?"

Where _was_ he? Had he got flagrantly drunk with Leon somehow, because if that was the case then he did not appreciate Dandelion running off and leaving him to face... whatever music happened to be the one playing to get him into trouble. Clearing a throat that felt like it was full of sawdust, he could feel the niggling at the back of his mind that said there was something he needed to do, some_one_ he needed to save.

Who?

...No, it was gone as soon as it had come, a vague recollection that was lost behind the muddy fog of his drugged thoughts. Clearing his throat he tried again, unaware if this was going to get him anywhere, or if he was just talking to the wall of his cell for no good reason.

"Excuse me? I think there's been a misunderstanding. You see, I'm no criminal, I'm just a poor travelling priest. Hello? ...he...llo..?"

The soft sound of footsteps answered his call, and he felt a coiling of both apprehension and hope as he watched the door. Every muscle tensed ready to meet his captor head on, and hopefully persuade them to let him go without the need for undue violence. The door opened, and all hopes of that vanished as memories flooded past the drugged dam in his mind to flood his senses overwhelmingly.

"...von Kampfer."

His voice was a growl, his eyes belonging in the Commander from long ago, hard as nails and ready to commit murder in a heartbeat. They had Caterina... no... worse... 01 had Caterina, and he had been wasting valuable time drugged in this dungeon. No patience for these games, he immediately activated the nanomachines to 40%, ready to snap these chains as though they were threads and turn the Magician into a bloodied smear on the wall.

Only... nothing happened.

The barest muted hiss of voices from within, as a true terror settled like ice in his gut. This couldn't be happening... this was _**impossible. **_Nothing could have this kind of mastery over Crusnik, nothing could chain them this way... and yet, no matter how hard he strained for the power he usually tried to pretend he didn't have, nothing came to him.

Isaak smiled.

It was not a pleasant smile, it was the smile of a predator that knows its prey is wounded and in sight, it was the smug smile of the arrogant bastard, and it was the smile of someone who knows they have just played a winning gambit. Making his way over to Abel, movements slow and utterly self-assured, Isaak took a silver-worked case from his breast pocket and drew out a cigarillo, lighting it to let it dangle precariously from his lower lip.

"Is something troubling you, Herr Abel?"

Abel's eyes burned, glaring into Isaak's face as he pulled against the chains impotently, heart beating an erratic tattoo of fear at the thought of what Caterina might be enduring even now. He didn't have time for these games, he didn't have time to humour their petty charade. He didn't need Crusnik, he would show this arrogant terran why he had been feared long before 02 had entered his system... he could tear him limb from limb without need for any nanomachine assistance.

"Where is she? Not even God will have mercy on your soul, if you've so much as laid a _finger_ on her."

Unpeturbed by the threat, Isaak merely exhaled smoke in an almost sensual purr, the pleasure of this game almost akin to the rudimentary pleasures of the flesh most mundane people delighted themselves with.

"The Duchess Milan is currently resting." His smile increased ever so slightly to a wolfish grin Guderian would have been proud of. "Mein Herr will see you shortly."

As though he had been summoned by those words, the sharp echoing _tap, tap tap _of a cane floated into the cell, growing closer by the second until it halted right outside the door. With a deferential bow, Isaak opened the door and stepped aside to allow his Herr to enter. Dressed in his usual finery of a white suit that had been tailor-made in Albion, along with a top-hat and walking cane, the blonde came practically skipping into the room. His face was a bright beaming grin as he looked over at his restrained brother, expression all innocent delight as he awkwardly embraced Abel.

Abel felt physically sick as he was embraced, hating his body for the almost overpowering longing that went hand-in-hand with the hatred and anger, every muscle tensed as he fought internally to grasp the nanomachines. He was trapped here, as helpless as a baby, and Caterina was relying on him. Dizzy despair threatened to steal the breath from his lungs, the echo of Contra Mundi running endlessly through his mind as he twisted himself as far as he could from this mockery of affection.

"Get off me."

"So cruel, my dear brother. Haven't you missed me at all~?"

The mock pout on Cain's face made Abel literally tremble with rage, with a desire to rip and tear and _devour_ this creature that dared wear his twin's face and masquerade as him.

"You are _not_ my brother."

Cain's pout grew more intensified, his hands at Abel's shoulders squeezing just a touch too hard to be natural, his voice dipping to a sombre tone that seemed almost genuinely regretful.

"It hurts me when you say such things." He wagged a finger in his doppelganger's face, chiding. "But then, you've long been too blind to see what was right in front of your face, I shouldn't be surprised."

Abel just gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he glared daggers into the face that used to be the other part of his soul. He didn't have a rebuttal for that, when he knew it to be true, though hardly for the reasons 01 surely meant. Cain's pout faded into something more serious, long fingers reaching out to run down the ridges of that ancient rosary that hung over Abel's chest.

"She would have been so disappointed to see you now."

The moment Cain touched the beloved keepsake of his long-dead soulmate, dared desecrate her memory with his foul words, Abel snarled viciously and strained against the chains so hard it seemed he would dislocate his own shoulders. It didn't matter, a red mist had descended over his judgement as his soul tore itself apart with anger, grief, guilt, fear and agony that had only grown in the centuries it had been allowed to fester. Cain, however, seemed unpeturbed by Abel's sudden vehemence, shaking his head and sighing sadly.

"She loved this world, Abel. I love this world, why can't you see that?"

"You... how _**dare**_... "

"Lilith wanted to heal the world of pain... you only want to prolong it. Tell me, if she saw a fish that had been left on land too long, so even if it were put back in water it would simply thrash for a few hours before dying... would she put it back in the water, or do the merciful thing?" Cain spread his hands as though explaining something elemental to a rather backwards child, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "The world is nothing but pain, the disease of life has infected every inch of this planet and brought with it nothing but sorrow. There is only one way to heal a wound like this now, Abel... only one kindness."

Abel's ears were ringing dully as he shook his head in a jerky movement, breath coming in shortened gasps. How could he pervert her love that way? How could he take her serene perfection and twist it to meet the demands of his own bloodlust? It was unforgiveable, detestable...

"You don't remember her message, and you never truly knew me. Contra Mundi even in his own family... why fight it any longer?" Cain's words became soft, so very soft as he leaned right into Abel, molding their bodies together and whispering in his doppelganger's ear. "You are mine, and you will always be mine, no matter how many negative elements come between us."

Snapping the chain on that rosary, Cain abruptly turned on his heel and walked out with a small smile on his lips, fingers curled around the last piece of Lilith he had left to take from Abel. The door slammed shut as both Isaak and Cain left, leaving Abel alone in the darkness with only his trembling and mad fractured thoughts to keep him company.

_I have removed the negative element._

_...removed the negative element..._

_...negative... element..._

_Lilith. Caterina. Contra Mundi. Contra Mundi._

Abel's voice rose in a scream that was barely human, an expelling of grief and raw pain centuries old that echoed around his cell impotently, chasing his terror of future failings and joining with them to send precious pieces of his mind crumbling.

**_"CAAAAAIIIIIIIN!"_**


	8. Contra Mundi

**Contra Mundi**

Cain sat in the slick solution designed to keep his failing body from degenerating, the soft light above glinting from the object in the palm of one hand. A rosary... No, more than that. _Her_ rosary... A symbol of the broken bonds between brothers and the loss of a powerful ally against the terrans. Just the sight of it brought a familiar twisted possession rising in his mind, half borrowed from the host and mutated by the thing that now inhabited him.

He wanted his brother back. His true brother.

He desired those days when they danced together under a fountain of blood, scouring whole lands clean of the disease that infected them. When they had truly been Contra Mundi, and the world had trembled in fear of the Night Lords. This age was a mere broken memory of that, where he was relegated to a body ruined from that fall through space, and his brother was a snivelling coward, a broken cur instead of the God he was by rights. It sickened him, it angered him...

It was time this ended, it was time to get his brother back and together they would rebirth this world in fire.

The soft splash of the water sounded abnormally loud in this silent room as Cain stood up and stretched, feeling the renewed vigor of a body just out of statis, a cruel smile quirking his lips when he noticed his guest had averted her eyes from the sight of his naked body. Silent in the corner, Caterina had stood still and straight as though she were a visiting a state dignitary rather than bound hand to foot in shadowed tendrils.

"Why do you look away, Duchess?" His voice carried smoothly between them as he slipped out of the bath without shame, and walked towards her slowly. "Is this not what you wanted to see? I am, after all, identical to my dear brother."

Caterina had no real idea why she was here, her theories about war and using her to get to Alec seemed unfounded, and Cain was a fool if he thought to use her affection against Abel. Her subordinate had no interest in her that way, hadn't even any idea she felt that way. Something she both regretted deeply, and was infinitely grateful for... she didn't deserve him, and she certainly wouldn't let herself be used against him.

Her stomach curled with a very real fear of this man as he approached, yet she gave no outward sign of it. They could do as they wished to her, but she would remain the Iron Maiden and show them that the Vatican would not fall easily to their revolting schemes. Jaw clenched, she kept her eyes turned away from this man's nudity and answered in a frosty tone, the like of which she had often used to chastise a foolish subordinate.

"I have no interest in looking at a monster."

Cain's laughter bubbled out at her response, delighted and malicious all at once, a jarring facade that could be likened all too well to Abel, and yet was infinitely more disturbing. She was so much more _interesting_ than Lilith, less of that serene peace that had irritated him so much, and more of a sharply intelligent edge. Of course, that wouldn't save her life... but it was still amusing.

"It seems to me your interest lies solely in a monster~"

Teeth gritted, Caterina lifted her eyes to rest deliberately on his face, glaring cool grey eyes into laughing blue ones. This was all an attempt to unnerve her, to play on the affections she had foolishly let show on her face in a moment of shock when they met, but the longer this lasted then the more determined she was to be unbendable.

"Abel is not the monster here."

"Your devotion is touching..." Cain spread his hands, voice taking on a regretful tone. "Alas, it cannot change the truth. Would it were so, fair Duchess, that you could make him a good man with just your wishes alone."

This time Caterina didn't even dignify that with a response. She knew the truth... Abel Nightroad was a good man, a man who had saved her when he didn't have to, and who cared more about the little injustices of the world than anyone else she had ever met.

Cain took another step forwards, coming so close to her that their bodies were almost touching, smiling face bare inches from hers as he spoke to her in a jarringly genial murmur. "You're both so blind, both of you thinking he was something he isn't. Trying to change him to fit with your ideals... I truly hate you~"

Caterina felt a chill go through her, those words had been said with such light-hearted smiles, it seemed strange that they had been so vehemently hateful. His fingers brushed her skin and she had to resist the urge to recoil in disgust, skin crawling where she still felt his lingering touch, suddenly very aware of his close proximity to her.

"You're going to help me with a demonstration!" Cain's voice was suddenly loud and boyishly excited, as he brought the rosary up and draped it around her neck like a decoration, grasping her hand like a childhood friend and tugging her ungracefully through the corridors into another room.

The rosary felt surprisingly heavy around her neck, although that thought and the irritation at being dragged around were chased away immediately by the sight in front of her.

Abel.

Chained and obviously half mad, straining against chains that held him to the wall, Abel's head snapped up when the door opened. Winter blue eyes opened impossibly wide in his head as he stared, frozen, at Caterina for a long moment before giving a wordless howl of rage and redoubling his efforts to get free.

Cain's hands came to rest almost lightly on Caterina's shoulders, his smile impossibly cruel and goofy at the same time, his eyes looking over at his helpless doppelganger.

"You're going to help me prove the definition of Contra Mundi..."


	9. Malleable Iron

_A/N: This chapter will contain sexual content of a possibly disturbing nature, you have been warned. _

**Malleable Iron**

Cain's arms slid around Caterina like bands of immoveable steel, his chin on her shoulder as he grinned over at Abel in the silence that followed his declaration. Abel's head was swimming, he felt sick looking forwards and seeing that smile and that pale but determined face side by side... no matter what, he couldn't fail here today. Not again... he wouldn't let anyone else he loved suffer for his mistakes, he wouldn't be Contra Mundi again.

"C...ain." His voice came out in a hoarse whisper as he forced himself to calm, even though his eyes sparked with something distinctly unbalanced. "Let her go, she has... nothing to do with this."

Well now, that was so ludicrous that it evoked a laugh from Cain, his head turning slightly to push his nose into the velvety skin of Caterina's throat, enjoying the sensation of her helplessness even if the blood that pulsed beneath the surface was useless to him.

"She's everything to do with this, dear brother." His hand trailed further down Caterina to rest on the rosary settled against her stomach, the joining together of old and new. "She's the negative influence."

Abel shuddered violently at those words, barely holding his composure only by repeating to himself desperately that Caterina needed him. Winter blue eyes held none of the genial warmth of the priest as they fixed on the identical ones of the monster, alight with madness and a rage that would be more at home on the face of the long-gone Commander. This was different, Caterina might be the terran who had drawn him out of the tomb, but it was still Lilith's ideals that guided his life now.

"You do seem to have a knack for finding them." Cain continued, as though he were unaware of Abel's distress, a hand coming up to tangle long fingers in blonde curls. "You'll have to give me your secret, I never have beautiful women falling in love with me~"

Caterina couldn't help herself then, she flinched just once, her composure cracking for a heartbeat as her stomach turned to ice. She silently pleaded with Abel not to have heard or understood... she would take hours of physical torture over giving her precious knight the knowledge of her secret unworthy affection for him. Hardly daring to breathe, she raised her chin to meet Abel's eyes and... his surprise at seeing her reaction made her heart shrivel in her chest. No...

There were no words for the shock Abel felt, he hadn't believed any words dropping from those liar's lips... but then her reaction. That flinch and the look of despair in her eyes that spoke of truth, it hit him like a freight train and left no room for anything but that one thought for long seconds.

Love.

She loved him?

But why? A small bitter chuckle escaped his lips that he didn't even notice, shoulders shaking at the cruel irony of yet another failure. How long had she felt this way and he had been oblivious? Guilt filled him at failing to notice, at failing to cushion her feelings, and even at himself for not returning those feelings. He loved her, that was never in question, but not in the way she wanted... his heart would always lie in a tomb with his greatest of sins.

"Caterina..." He stopped with a soft choked noise, pushing back words he didn't even have. Whatever this mess was, it had to be dealt with after she was safe from Cain. Just the thought of his brother had mindless anger raging in him again, pulsing white hot in his veins and filling him with the desire to rip him limb from limb.

Cain's smile grew softer, those fingers still running over the ridges of the rosary at Caterina's stomach, his lips barely brushing her jawline as he spoke. "So blind, Abel, always so blind. So selfish not to give the good Duchess what she desires."

Caterina was acutely aware of Cain's nakedness as he pressed close to her, the damp liquid from the statis chamber soaking into the fabric of her dress and a coil of fear and anger slowly growing. She would not be used in this manner to torture Abel, and if he were expecting her to beg and cry then he was severely mistaken. She was proud of how steady her voice was when she finally spoke, assured and seemingly unaffected by this whole situation, however much it was killing her inside.

"My desires are something you are extremely ill-informed on, and these games are nothing more than childish."

Cain just laughed low and soft, fingers sliding along her stomach and pressing into the fabric of her dress, eyes meeting Abel's with a malicious promise. It really wasn't important, he couldn't even picture her as a sexual creature, it was like imagining a rotting carcass of meat engaging in such acts. It was the significance this act would have on Abel's psyche, as he took her purity away while she was wearing that symbol of his lost lover. It was a desecration of present and past, and an ultimate display of Abel's helplessness to save anyone, his status as Contra Mundi as all he loved was destroyed so utterly before his eyes again.

"The Iron Lady." Cain's fingers began to pop open the buttons at the back of her bodice, the noise as loud as gunshots in the small room. "Shall we see how malleable iron is? How strong your will truly is when tested?"

Abel was in an agony of guilt and fear as he watched this, barely even feeling the strain on his shoulders any longer as he pressed against the chains binding him. Mind frantically pulling for the muted buzz of the nanomachines that refused to respond to his call, trapped by the infected blood-spell on the Auto Jaeger he had consumed. He couldn't allow this to happen, and yet he was helpless to do anything but utter a strangled noise as Caterina's clothes slowly fell piece by piece to the floor, pooling in a soft rustle of fabric to leave her naked and yet infinitely composed. That pale determined face lanced right through Abel and made his heart pang so painfully he wanted to moan, hating the fear she must be feeling underneath... but far more than that, hating himself for giving her a life where she had been forced to forge this strong facade instead of living a normal and peaceful life. He truly was a monster, wasn't he?

The cold air pebbled Caterina's pale skin as she was left bare except for that rosary, resisting the urge to show her fear and shame by covering the intimate areas now exposed, leaving her arms hanging by her sides as she focused on controlling her breathing. She would not break here, she would not... it was almost easy to maintain the mask of calm, even as Cain's hand slid up over her naked breast; because even if she didn't realize it, some part of her still believed implicitly that her brave knight would save her.

Cain noted the purely instinctual reaction to his gentle touch with an almost dispassionate interest, some part of him darkly amused that he was taking something Isaak had wanted for so long when he had no actual interest in it. It was pathetic how weak the terran body was against its own hormonal changes and subconscious instinct. Even though she didn't want his touch, the longer he explored and touched her body with gentle caresses, the more her body reacted. It was almost funny to watch the fear in her eyes and note the soft change in the scent of her skin and the hitch of her breathing as he learned where sensation was the strongest. Those that raped by force were foolish, a terran way of thinking to take it by force when with a little subtlty you could make biology work on your side.

The room fell into silence but for the endless broken pleas of Abel for him to stop, a litany of Cain and Caterina's names in a jumble through tears he hadn't even noticed start to fall. Caterina was disgusted at herself for feeling an alien warmth as the monster slid his fingers almost tenderly across her sex, the panic rising in her throat to choke her as her eyes began to plead with Abel to save her.

"I never understood your desire for this, Abel." Cain's voice broke the silence, covering the whimper of protest wrenched from Caterina as he continued his almost distracted ministrations. "I remember hearing you moan for Lilith in your dreams, did you ever fulfil that dream?"

Abel couldn't even form a reply for the choking guilt and pain, eyes fixed on Caterina's as though he could somehow convey to her just how much he wished this were not happening, as though there weren't a monster proving to her just how useless and ineffectual her knight had always been. A cracked begging from Abel as his vision blurred from the tears.

"Please... please stop..."

Cain's laughter seemed jarring against the tension of the situation, bright and delighted as though Abel had just told an extremely amusing joke. This was pathetic... _this_ was all his marvellous other half had been reduced to? A broken mess that could only plead for the nightmares not to come true; it was disgraceful that this terran woman was bearing the torture with far more strength and pride than the man chained to the wall. Naturally, arousal was something Cain did not feel now, a sexual thrill holding no interest or value to the nanomachines at all, but it was a simple thing to manipulate the blood in this body to achieve the needed effect.

Her skin was soft and warm as he slid himself into her, the sound of her pained cry delicious after so much determination to stay composed. She was trembling like a leaf, blood running down her inner thigh as she struggled to force ragged pants past the sheer agony of the tearing inside.

"...Abel..."

Her voice was raw, a betrayal in her eyes as she shuddered with each new thrust inside her. A demand to know why he had let this happen, why he hadn't been strong enough to protect her... it hurt almost more than the physical pain and the sense of intrusive violation, it was the death of the last part of that innocent child that had promised to protect the world from him.

Abel was frozen, even his chest still of breath as he watched out of eyes too wide in their sockets. The anguished accusation of Caterina's face seemed to morph and layer with a much older memory of serene golden eyes and dark skin. The rosary swinging between her breasts with each violent movement tied them together and made this a rape of something so sacrosanct his mind couldn't even comprehend the horror.

Failed. Again.

Contra Mundi...


	10. Three Minutes

_A/N: This is the final chapter of The Games We Play; I realize it's very short, but it's just an epilogue to tie up the end of the game. Thank you to anyone who has read the story, and all reviews give me a happy. This was for my amazing Makokins =3_

**Three Minutes  
**

A climax was pointless. This body was full of dead seed, and even if it did want to reproduce it would not do so with a worthless diseased terran. Yet to force one was to add the ultimate degradation to the act, and make it final... so with an exerted will, Cain ejaculated inside the ruined Duchess.

Her chest was heaving, sweat and tears running down her usually composed face and her eyes staring blankly ahead at the man chained to the wall. Cain allowed her to meet his brother's eyes for one long moment of betrayal, his own smile curving deceptively at his lips, before playing the final gambit of this game.

At seven pm precisely, Cain threaded long fingers into blonde curls and pulled with all the strength of a fully fused Crusnik, twisting Caterina's head until the skin started to tear torturously slowly. Bones popped with a noise like gunshots going off, each vertabrae snapping until her scream of pain cut off into a gurgle of her own blood and then went ominously silent as her body dropped in a useless crumpled mess on the ground.

At one minute past seven, Abel Nightroad looked in horror as the past came full circle in a dizzying deja vu that ripped apart his soul. A head being held aloft by silken hair... long and red like fire... curled and golden like the sun... two sets of eyes staring in the glaze of death... two women who had loved him, and who he had failed in every way possible.

At two minutes past seven, just before the bloodlust and rage ripped past the shock of what had been done, Isaak released the spell containing the nanomachines behind the influence of that tainted blood from the Auto Jaegers. A precisely timed release, and by far the most important part of this little game that had been orchestrated for this exact purpose. Abel stood no chance, reeling from the soul destroying failure of cataclysmic proportions and not expecting the sudden vehement rush of the nanomachines back into his consciousness, he let out a bestial howl and teetered on the precipice of true insanity for one long moment.

At three minutes past seven, the world changed forever.

The silence was absolute in the room, the anguished howls and sobbing ceasing, the chains crumbling to dust to leave Abel free. He dropped to his hands and knees on the floor, Cain idly licking blood from his fingertips while watching in amusement, a dark hunger in winter blue eyes.

The pain was gone. The torment that had shredded his soul mere moments before was almost laughably easy to shrug off, what did one more terran's death matter in the face of the pain that destroyed this world each day? He saw it clearly now, how foolish he had been to try and heal the hangnail when the foot had gone septic and needed to be amputated...

He was evolved.

Crusnik 02 raised his head and met the eyes of Crusnik 01, two hearts once more beating in time and two souls as one without any negative influence tearing them apart any more. Cain smiled, holding out a hand to help up his brother, drawing him into an embrace that slotted their bodies together in perfect symmetry.

"It's time, my brother."

Abel felt his own lips draw upwards as his arms closed around Cain in return, his vision clear from guilt and pain for the first time in centuries... his twin was right, it was time they ended this game once and for all.

_Igne Natura Renovatur Integra._


End file.
